By Mr. Charlie Harary
A friend of mine was working on collecting army gear for Jewish soldiers. Many of our soldiers didn’t have as much equipment as they needed, and when word got out that such an endeavor could support the army, my friend began shouldering the responsibility of seeing it through as best as he could.
One Friday afternoon, he was sitting at his home office, coordinating the various components that would land more gear in the hands of our Jewish brothers and sisters on the front lines. As this was going on, a thought crossed his mind about his nine-year-old son. Most Friday afternoons, he would get together with his friends and play for a bit. And usually, at some point of their get-together, they would come knocking on his office door and say hello. But that afternoon, it seemed quieter than usual. His son wasn’t out and about like he usually was. Where was he though?
Looking around, he found him. He was trudging out to the backyard, then into the house, then out onto the front lawn. But it didn’t end there. Back he went into the house to the refrigerator, grabbing some sodas and ice teas (some of which seemed like he made) and then back out front. Scotch tape followed, along with some markers and paper. Some noise accompanied the process, all to the father’s remaining uncertainty of what exactly was going on.
His Son Lined Up Sodas and Ice Teas for Sale Right in Front of the House
And then it came into plain sight. His son had lined up sodas and ice teas for sale right in front of the house. But why? And would anything come of it?
A few minutes later, a car pulled up to the front, and a guy rolled down the window and stuck his hand out. The boy ran around to the passenger window and grabbed what was a five-dollar bill in exchange for some drinks. “Keep the change,” said the driver.
Minutes later, another window came rolling down. “Hey, what are you doing?” “I’m raising money for Israel.” “What?” came the surprised reply. “How much for a drink?” “Fifty cents.” “Here’s a ten—keep the change.” Another neighbor soon walked by. “What are you doing?” “I’m raising money for Israel.” A minute later, the neighbor came out of his house with a box of cookies. “Raise these too,” he said.
The father, looking out at his son and all his sodas and box of cookies, watched as kid after kid and car after car went by. After a couple of hours, the boy bid his friends goodbye and headed inside. And then came the knock at his office door. “Daddy, I hear you’re raising money for Israel. Here’s $78.50. Can you send it to them as well from me?”
When I first heard this, I was moved beyond words.
Similar to Our Relationship with Hashem
In many ways, this story is representative of how our relationship is with Hashem. We would make a mistake to think that we do chesed because Hashem needs it. Hashem doesn’t need it; He can do whatever He wants. If He wants blessing, success and abundance to be showered upon the Jewish nation, it’s not difficult for Him. It’s only a second away until He grants it to us. And equally so, we are the little nine-year-old boy relative to Hashem.
I can almost imagine the nachas (pleasure) Hashem gets when we go out of our way to raise money and help our Jewish brothers and sisters. To Hashem, Who can do anything, any human contribution is akin to a couple of cents. But when we help each other and do for one another, despite Hashem having all the means and resources to do anything, it still gives Him unbelievable nachas. You can just imagine how the father felt seeing his nine-year-old son commit and dedicate himself to helping our brothers and sisters. Hashem feels much the same way.
When we do anything, even raising just a few dollars for another Jew, it echoes in the Heavens and brings true pride and delight to our Father in Heaven.
Reprinted from the Parashat Vayetzei edition of the Torahanytime Newsletter compiled and edited by Elan Perchik.
